“William. I know this looks scary, but it will help the cut heal. You’ll be fine.” Annie turned to Etheldreda. “In a week’s time, remove the threads. The cut will be healed.” Etheldreda watched intently as Annie finished with the stitches.
“Amazing,” Etheldreda said. “And that works better than magic?”
“Sometimes nonmagical procedures are better. Most still aren’t, though,” Annie said as she cleared away the kit and placed it back in her field pack. She glanced up, still weak but more energized than before.
“Sturtagaard needs attention,” Annie said and stood to heal him. Gibbs took her hand.
“Not without a bodyguard,” he said.
“He’s not a vampire yet. But come if you want,” she said and headed across the still crowded longhouse. She felt the stares, the whispering, the pointing. Any goodwill she might have created was gone. There was a chill as she neared Sturtagaard.
Sturtagaard glared at her when she arrived. “You need healing,” Annie said.
“Not from you,” he jeered.
“Well, I’m all you have right now. Sit still,” she ordered as she examined his face. Blood dripped from his temple and his chin. Neither cut was deep and could be healed easily with magic. Annie summoned water and warmed it in a puddle above her hand before placing over the wound. When the wound healed, she worked on his chin.
“I’m sorry about your son. What was his name?” Annie asked.
He sneered. “His name was Tyr,” he said. “My wife Astrid is missing.”
Annie dropped the healing water to the ground, splashing her boots. She knew he lost everything here and now, and she felt sorry for the human sitting before her. “When did you last see her?”
“I came out to find my son. I placed him with the rest of the dead. When I came back here, she was gone. Dirty witches will not let me leave.”
Annie glanced at the door. Guards had been stationed to keep the villagers inside while a patrol walked the perimeter of Jorvik searching for stray demons.
“I’m sure she’s here. As soon as the coven determines there are no more demons outside, they’ll let everyone out to find those who managed to escape and hide.” Annie’s hollow attempt to reassure him only made him harden more.
She checked his hands, his pulse. “I think you’re fine for now. Rest and eat and we’ll begin searching for…”
“Where is she?” An angry screech came from the king’s throne. Behind King Hrothgar, Queen Signe was hysterical, her maidens attempting to calm her.
“Gyda, my daughter. She is missing!” The king’s cheeks were flushed, his mouth turned in anger as he spoke to Kolgaar. Annie turned toward the commotion and met Kolgaar’s eyes. For a moment she felt relief until he glared at her and motioned for her to join them. She cautiously walked through the longhouse, all eyes on her. She shuddered with anxiety and exhaustion.
“This is your fault!” the king shouted at Annie.
She jumped at the verbal attack. “I didn’t create the demons, nor did I send them to attack,” she said.
“Your coven did. And now my daughter is gone!”
“I got here two days ago.” Annie stopped. It wasn’t the time to make excuses or pass blame. She took a breath and felt her hands shake from hunger and emotion. “The coven sent the demons?” she asked.
“They created them. This is their fault!” The king pointed to Annie.
“Has anyone gone out to look for the princess?” Annie asked. With a tilt of her head, she turned and walked from the king. Gibbs and Brite joined her as she stopped at the longhouse doors. “It’s time to search the village for anyone hiding after the attack. Send the Vikings to look for their families,” Annie ordered the guard at the door. He nodded and left his post.
“I saw Sturtagaard help his wife inside the building. He came back out to find his son and when he went back to her, she was gone. I think she left. I’m wondering if she went home. He’s even more angry now,” Annie said as they systematically walked the first street, passing several male bodies scattered in the mud. Blood covered the ground and clung to their boots and pants. Annie couldn’t describe it as anything other than a real-life horror movie.
I didn’t ask for this.
“You’re not safe,” Gibbs said. Annie ignored him and bent over the first dead female in the path. With respect to the body, she slowly turned the woman and examined her face, noting the bite marks across the chin, neck and shoulder. She grimaced at the mangled muscles, ripped tendons and pool of blood as it drained from the deep wound. Annie touched the woman’s cheek. “I know I’m in danger. Sturtagaard is at his breaking point. This isn’t Gyda,” she said. They moved on to the next female body.
Gibbs and Brite followed closely, palms out and ready, as Annie knelt beside another girl who wore her golden hair in a plait behind her back as Gyda did. The roughly woven gray fabric didn’t seem suitable for a princess at this time. Annie turned her over nonetheless and examined the face of the dead girl.
She knew immediately it wasn’t Gyda. “She was so young.” Annie removed a chunk of mud from her creamy skin. “Tomorrow morning, we collect the blood and this stops.”
Villagers cautiously exited the longhouse and spread themselves through the village, pulling the dead from the muddy puddles across the narrow streets. Behind them, several carts were pulled around and were soon filled with the bodies.
Annie knelt at another dead girl.
Kolgaar trotted to them, his expression grim.
“We should have left sooner. You should have taken care of this already,” he said.
Annie stood up. Though she couldn’t match his size and height, she knew she was formidable. “It didn’t matter when we walked through the portal. We could have only returned when we did. I won’t say it again. Do not talk to me. Do not look at me. Go protect your king. I don’t care where. Just go!”
She turned and knelt beside the next female body, bending over to observe her young face.
Kolgaar followed. “You need to take care of this!” he shouted. Annie stood again.
“Tomorrow when the demons are down for the day, we’ll collect their blood and perform the spell. Now go protect the king. I never want to see you again!”
Annie stomped off, searching for Princess Gyda. She bypassed older women, men, small children. The princess wasn’t along this road.
“I’m ordered to stay with you and ensure you finish this,” Kolgaar said, still following her.
“You’d best use your time to protect the king. Move him outside of Jorvik.” Annie faced him. “Go protect him. I don’t need you to spy on me.”
He grabbed her wrist. Gibbs and Brite held their palms up, prepared to jinx him. “I am staying with you as I was ordered. We will go to the forest, and you will get the blood you need. Now!” he said. Together, Brite and Gibbs cast their jinxes, releasing Kolgaar’s hold on Annie. He stumbled backwards into a cottage door.
Annie backed away and bumped into a tall, thin man. Even before turning around, she knew it was Sturtagaard. When she faced him, his expression was so familiar, so angry, as it continued to build. He would never be the same. “We were told by the coven that there was someone who could save us from the demons,” he said calmly.
“I can save you from the demons,” Annie said as she took a step back.
“Look at this. Does this look like you saved us?” Sturtagaard jeered.
She stared into Sturtagaard’s eyes, which were blank, as if he’d given up and let the pain numb him. “I understand your anger and fury. I have my own. There’s a… man who is responsible for the death of my parents. He ruined everything, but I didn’t let the fury consume me. You can’t either,” she said. It was difficult to have this conversation; she knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. She knew what he was to become.
“We were promised you would stop this,” Sturtagaard took a step closer to her. She was trapped between the angry brothers.
“I have a plan. We’ll put
it into motion and we’ll kill the demons,” she said. She bumped into the cottage and felt the rough edges of the mud wall. Gibbs and Brite again had their palms up and ready.
“We believed you were the one,” Kolgaar said.
Annie’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t create the demons; I didn’t create the failed protection spell and I most definitely didn’t volunteer for this. I’m doing the best I can without my magic at full power, and I’m dealing with two groups who can’t stand each other. Don’t place all of the fault on me!”
Sturtagaard lunged, pinning Annie against his body, holding her with a thick arm. With his other hand, he held a knife to her neck. Gibbs and Brite dropped their palms. Annie’s heart pounded, he could feel her pulse at her neck. It wouldn’t be the last time he bested her.
One night, almost five years ago, a very new wizard guard had been paralyzed with fear, locked in the arms of one of the most dangerous vampires ever recorded. He had licked her neck and sniffed her skin, instilling terror in her. In that moment when she had let her defenses down, letting him get so close to her, she learned to hate him and worked on controlling her emotions when he was around.
He knew this was coming.
Because of his agreement with the Wizard Council, she couldn’t touch him and he couldn’t touch her. All he could do was play with her, torment her. She sensed he enjoyed the torture more than he would enjoy actually sucking the life from her. The Fraternitatem, her mother, her father may have been his way of getting even with her when the opportunity presented itself.
She held her breath, lulling him into thinking she was afraid of him. He loosened his grip on her, dropping the knife a little lower. Annie turned her palms backwards and blasted him twenty feet. He landed in the mud.
Kolgaar backed away when he looked into her eyes. Annie turned and walked to Sturtagaard. “Search the bodies. Astrid may still be alive. The princess is missing too. Where might they run to?”
Dazed, Sturtagaard blinked rapidly as he sat in the mud. “To the coven.” He thought again. “My farmhouse.” He pointed north of Jorvik where several farms had been established.
Annie walked back to the end of the street. “Go home then. She might be there with the princess,” she said.
Sturtagaard scampered up and ran for his homestead. Annie was certain he wouldn’t find his wife there.
Returning to Kolgaar, she said, “Clear the village of the bodies. If the princess is not here, then she ran away. Do not follow me, do not talk to me.” Annie turned and marched through Jorvik for the narrow path to the coven village.
Chapter 27
Annie relished the sounds of the softly falling rain as it hit the thatched roof, the crackling fire, the slight breeze that rattled the shutters. She stared into the forest, her feet resting on the window jamb. A demon snored softly inside the trees.
Maybe it will be a good night.
Upon returning to the cottage, Annie was filled with anger, fear, and anxiety. She ate to satiate the pain. Hours later, the food sat like stone in her stomach and Annie was now only angry.
The pages from the Donaldson’s Book of Shadows lay in her lap, but the words told her nothing new. They were useless scribblings from a group of people afraid to accept the responsibility of their actions and resolve the situation themselves. Annie felt like a sheep being led to slaughter.
“You should go to bed,” Gibbs said. He pulled the second chair beside her and looked into the darkness.
“I’m fine,” Annie replied curtly.
“You need to keep up your strength,” he said.
Annie shrugged. “I hope they’ll still be tired tomorrow.”
“Odd how they attacked during the day,” Brite commented as he stoked the fire with his returned magical strength.
“Sneak attacks are planned,” Annie said.
“The demons aren’t smart enough to plan,” Brite said. He leaned against the bed and took a sip of water. “Who’s controlling them?”
Annie looked at him. “We know they’re human-demon hybrids created with strong black magic. Old magic. The Vikings pretty much accused the coven of doing something with the demons. If they can control them, why did they call for help?”
“They can’t control them. Which means, either the demons are able to think on their own or someone in the coven is controlling them, and they refuse to do something about it,” Gibbs said.
“So they’re either protecting someone or they don’t know who’s doing it?” Brite asked.
“There aren’t that many coven members. We guess what, seventy-five total? They know who is controlling them.”
“They just can’t control that person. We need to have a little conversation with the coven elders.” Brite yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
“One problem at a time. Gir—Annie, you need sleep,” Gibbs said.
Annie yawned. “I know. I think it’s time to summon Zola.” She pulled out necklace and stared at the design before placing the book pages in her backpack. Something moved in the darkness. Annie stood.
Brite startled. “What is that?”
“Footsteps?” she whispered. She hung out the window and watched the shadows.
“Human or demon,” Gibbs asked.
“Human, I think,” Annie said as a tall, slim man holding a lantern, entered the trees.
“Now, why would someone head into the trees so late at night after a demon attack?” Annie asked.
“Let’s find out,” Gibbs said.
Annie, Gibbs, and Brite slipped out of the cottage window and slunk toward the path, following the man inside.
*
The wizard guards held small crystals in their palms, creating a magical light that was strong enough to see inside the thick foliage, but would not be noticed by anyone or anything around them. Up ahead, the lantern light bounced toward the roaring river. If the man knew he was being followed, he ignored it.
The lantern light turned left and it disappeared behind the trees; Annie, Gibbs, and Brite picked up their pace until they were jogging down the path. At the river’s edge, Gibbs peered west as the lantern light continued to jump about in the darkness.
The footsteps were easy to track in the mud, and they stopped when the lantern stopped. The lantern disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the river, then headed back inside the trees.
“Why the hell didn’t he just teleport to his final destination?” Gibbs asked.
“He wants us to follow?” Annie asked.
They continued to the teleportation spot and looked across the river.
“Do you have enough magic to teleport?” Gibbs asked.
Annie took out her flashlight, illuminated the river and noted its flow and width. “I’ll be fine,” she said. In an instant, she teleported away and landed on the other side. She bent over from the exertion and dizziness, and sucked in air.
Gibbs landed next, also exhausted. He leaned against the tree, closed his eyes, and said, “Not good.”
When Brite landed, he fell on his ass in the mud. “That’s a lot of energy,” he said.
“Can you make it?” Annie asked.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Brite looked down the narrow path where the lantern light was barely visible. “He’s getting away. We should go.”
Wasting no more time, they followed the light.
While they believed the demons would be tired and satiated enough to leave them alone, orange eyes still followed them in the darkness. Annie held her palms out, ready to cast a fireball should she need to.
“The demons are awake,” Brite said.
“I’m trying not to think about it, though I’m hoping that one’s just not hungry,” Annie said.
Lantern light hovered in the air for a moment, turned right and disappeared. “Watch for paths to the right.” Annie jogged down the path in complete darkness, nearly passing the path she was searching for. She hid behind a tree and watched the coven member being received at the door of a hidden cottage.
/> Gibbs and Brite joined her as the door was closed. “Let’s see what he’s up to,” Gibbs said. They crept closer to the cottage; Brite walked to the left, Annie to the right; neither side contained a window. They met at the front door and positioned themselves near a crack between the door and wall.
“Everard, she is here to get rid of the problem you created, old man,” said the coven member. Annie pressed her face to the open space wide enough to observe the tall, thin man with shocking red hair and long thin nose. His mouth was pursed together in disgust. She couldn’t remember his name.
“You cannot. You must not kill them. That is genocide.” The man called Everard’s spoke up, his voice quivering.
Annie’s mouth opened when she caught sight of Everard for the first time. He was withered, skin and bones, with deep wrinkles across his forehead and around his mouth and eyes. White wisps of hair sprung from his head in patches. Life expectancy during the ninth century might have been anywhere between age forty-five to sixty-five; Everard appeared to have lived well beyond that. He peered at the coven member with fear in his eyes.
“They are dangerous. You can’t control them. You haven’t been able to control them in decades. And the demons didn’t free us of the Vikings like you promised. They are in control. It failed. And it is time for this experiment to end,” the tall man said.
“You… you must not. Please do not kill them. They are a species now and must be protected. You wouldn’t wipe out the Cath Palug, would you?”
“It does not matter. The girl is here to clean up your mess.”
“Wha… what will happen to me?” Everard asked.
“We think you should consider stopping the potion. You’ve outlived many lives. I suggest you end it tonight,” the coven member said.
Everard rested his head in his hands.
“Do it tonight,” the man ordered. Without waiting for Everard to respond, he turned and came to the door. Annie, Gibbs, and Brite slipped around the side of the cottage. The man slammed the door behind him without saying goodbye.
The lantern swung as he walked. When he turned, Annie, Gibbs, and Brite stepped back into view.
Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set Page 129